


In My Head Again

by Adriana_Morgan



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, No Strings Attached, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 09:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adriana_Morgan/pseuds/Adriana_Morgan
Summary: When MC's relationship with Zen fails, she enters a no strings attached, friends with benefits relationship with Seven. But how long can she pretend she's not in love with him? And how long before he can no longer pretend he has more than just sexual feelings for her?





	In My Head Again

**Author's Note:**

> SURPRISE!! Here's a little something my bestie has been working on for the past couple of months (you can find her on Tumblr @mandietheaddict). Hang onto your hats, because this story will be a bumpy one. However, we hope you enjoy it as much as we’ve enjoyed writing it!

Seven adjusts his glasses and looks up at the numbers painted above the heavy door. Muffled electric music thumps in rhythm behind it, and he glances back down to his screen, double-checking the address MC texted him half an hour ago. A nightclub; he should have known by the texts he’d received throughout the night, each one more typo-filled than the next. Not even autocorrect could guess some of the things she’d been trying to convey, but the last message was clear as day-_ hurry _. From what he could gather from her other jumbled texts, her relationship with Zen was not on the best of terms at the moment, and she was out with some old friends from school-apparently getting drunk. 

With a sigh of resignation, he shoves the device into his back pocket and pulls open the door, the powerful bass freed from the building’s confines causing his body to reverberate as he steps inside. Amazingly, it doesn’t take him long to find her, dancing alone amidst a sea of bodies on the dance floor. Each one is drunker than the next. 

He pauses for a moment to watch her, his eyes traveling over her undulating body. She wears a short black dress, the relaxed V neck and spaghetti straps revealing more skin than he’s comfortable with. He sees other men taking notice of her lack of clothing and finds himself wanting to jerk up the denim jacket that droops from her shoulders, only kept from falling off by slender forearms. Her long hair is in a high ponytail that swings from side to side with each graceful move she makes. Stray locks have escaped and cling to the frame of her glistening face. 

Eyes closed, she holds a drink in one hand, swaying to the deafening electronic music. His eyes drop to her converse, moving up the exposed length of her smooth legs he’s suddenly imagining wrapped around his waist. Shaking his head in irritation, Seven pushes through the throng of people, slowly making his way to the RFA’s party coordinator. 

“Seven!” He can barely hear her squealed greeting over the music, but her beaming smile of welcome and the way she attempts clap her hands in excitement-alcohol mixed with some sort of juice, sloshing out of her cup to soak her wrist-more than convey her joy at seeing him. She grabs his hand as he approaches and leans in close to shout near his ear. “Dance with me!’ 

“I thought you needed a ride home?” Her free hand releases him and falls to his hips, her body pressing close to his and he tries desperately to disengage himself. 

MC shakes her head. “I can’t go home! Zen and I broke up.” Seven freezes, his eyes widening. She takes advantage of his shock and once again pulls him close. “You know, Seven,” she says, her warm breath in his ear making him shiver. “I’ve always thought you were cute.” 

He forces a laugh and gently pushes her away. “You’re drunk.”

“Yes. I am very...very..._ very _drunk,” she agrees and sways with a giggle and a nod. “But you’re still hot.” 

He clasps her hand, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing and pulls her behind him as he heads for the front door. “C’mon,” he shouts over his shoulder. “You can stay at my place tonight.” 

She comes to a standstill, and when he turns he sees her bottom lip quivering, and he begins to panic. “You’d do that for me?” 

“Of course, why not?” 

“You’ve never told me where you live before! Zen wouldn’t even tell me because-”

“It’s fine,” he laughs in relief. “You’re not exactly in any condition to remember how to get there anyway.” 

With no warning, she throws herself into his arms, embracing him tightly around the neck. “You’re so nice!” she sobs and he pats her back awkwardly as the patrons around them begin to stare. “Why haven’t I ever noticed how sweet you are? How have I been so blind about everything?” 

Confused, Seven says nothing as she begins to cry in earnest. Not knowing what else to do he sweeps her into his arms, trying not to notice how well she fits against him. She buries her face in his neck, holding onto him tightly as he leaves the club. Instead of releasing her once outside, he continues to carry her the two blocks it takes to get to his car, her tears dampening his collar. 

Reaching the sleek sports car, he sets her down, ignoring the way her form slides down his, her dress riding up her thighs. Clasping one elbow to steady her, he opens the passenger side door. “Don’t cry, please,” he urges, swiping at her wet face with a thumb. “I’m sure you and Zen can work it out. You can have my bed tonight, I’ll sleep on the sofa. Tomorrow I’ll take you home.” 

Wordlessly she stares at him, tears continuing to roll down her flushed cheeks. Reaching up, her fingers caress his jaw, a trembling smile curving her full lips. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.” 

“You’re welcome.” Bowing slightly with a grin he gestures to the open car door. “Your chariot awaits, my princess.” 

She wrinkles her nose at him, then slides clumsily into the low car, a gleeful laugh splitting the night air. Seven’s grin remains as he closes the door behind her and rounds the small vehicle, folding his frame into the driver’s seat. Seeing the difficulty she’s having with her seatbelt, he chuckles and clicks it home for her. 

“My knight,” she sighs in contentment and rests her head against the window, her eyes closing. 

He can’t contain the warm feeling that spreads through his chest, his golden eyes drinking in her beauty as she seems to doze off, putting her complete trust in him. 

The love he has for her has consumed him for years. It’s been so long, he can’t remember a time he _ didn’t _love her. Keeping his feelings hidden wasn’t hard; he knew he never had a chance against someone like Zen, and he was ok with that. Zen is a gentleman, the perfect boyfriend. But it’s been five years since MC gave her his heart, and still, her finger is bare. Seven knows it’s none of his business why they’ve never taken their relationship further, so he’s never asked, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been curious.

Putting the car into drive, he glances over his shoulder, then pulls into traffic, wondering what’s happened between the two of you. Another woman seems ludicrous. Why would the thespian feel the need to look elsewhere when he has her? Besides, Zen has never struck him as the cheating type. 

Was it the other way around? Was she unfaithful? Doubtful—actually, he almost immediately discards the idea. Her love for the white-haired man has never been in question. She’s never hidden how enamored she is of him. 

The only logical reason is his career. Either he or she couldn’t keep making the relationship work with the constant traveling he does nowadays. In the past two years, his career has exploded, and he’s been cast in several major musicals. It seems as if he spends more time in hotels than at home with his girlfriend. 

A low groan from the passenger seat pulls him from his thoughts. He glances over anxiously to check on MC. “Are you alright?”

Another moan answers him and he grips the steering wheel with both hands. “Do you need me to pull over? Do you feel sick? Please don’t puke in my car, it will take me forever to get that smell out of the seats.” 

MC emits a weak laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to defile your baby. How much did this thing cost anyway?” 

“Weren’t you ever taught it’s impolite to talk about money?” 

“A small fortune then,” she shoots back and wiggles deeper into the seat. “Sometimes I think you’re richer than Jumin, even if you waste your money on all these hunks of metal.” 

“_ Hunks of metal _? Madame, how dare you?” Seven caresses the leather-covered wheel. “She didn’t mean that,” he whispers, and MC laughs yet again. 

The sound of her laughter makes his heart skip a beat, but it stops completely when her head rolls in his direction and her eyes open to peer at him. “Do you ever think of settling down, Seven? Finding a woman and starting a family?”

“Nah.” He tries to act nonchalant but the question has thrown him. He has thought of those things...with her. “I’m married to my job, you know that.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Because hacking is _ so _much better than sex.” 

“You asked about marriage—not sex.” 

“Touche,” she giggles, her body shifting to the side. “Do you have sex?” 

Seven briefly thinks he might crash the car that _ did _cost him a small fortune, but he’s able to compose himself, though his heart races. “I...uh...what?”

“Do not tell me you’re a virgin.” Her eyes widen in disbelief. “I mean, it would make sense though,” she murmurs, almost talking to herself. “It’s not like you go out to meet people, and you’re too safety conscious to meet someone online. Oh!” She perks up with a bright smile. “Do you see escorts?” 

“Of course not!” His denial is louder than he’d meant, making him sound more guilty than innocent. Clearing his throat, he shoots her a glance before returning his attention to the road. “No, I’m not a virgin, but no, I don’t pay for it either. It’s just...not important to me. I have too many responsibilities to waste time trying to find someone to hook up with.” 

MC nods solemnly. “Good, that’s good. Stay single as long as you can, feeling something for someone doesn’t do anything but cause pain.” 

“What happened with Zen, MC?” Seven prods, his words gentle. 

Shrugging a shoulder she turns back to the front and gazes out into the darkness from her window. “We just realized we wanted different things. Zen’s first and only love is his career, and that...doesn’t work for me.” 

They fall into silence, and MC’s eyes sink shut, her head falling back to rest on the soft leather behind her. As much as he wants to reach over, to offer whatever comfort he can, he refrains. Touching her is dangerous — everything about her is dangerous, and always has been.

He happens to be looking her way for the hundredth time when her eyes snap open and she leans forward to start punching various buttons, squinting at the glowing dials. 

“How do you turn the air conditioning on?” she mumbles, pausing long enough to remove her jacket and throw it onto the floorboard. “It’s so _ hot _,” she whines, resuming her search for the correct controls. 

“It’s the middle of October.” Even so, he reaches over and blindly switches on the air, chuckling at her sigh of relief. 

Her head rolls back in his direction, her bottom lip poking out. “I’m hungry.” 

“I thought you were sick?” 

“That was then, now I’m starving.” She places a hand on his arm, “Oh!” Her fingers tighten. “Can we stop by that new burger place?” 

He glances at the clock and raises an eyebrow. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? I mean, five minutes ago you were looking pretty green.” 

“Pleeeeease, Seven? Pretty, pretty please?” She pokes his cheek with each word, laughter tinging her words. He wonders if she’s this playful in bed and his body begins to respond in the most inappropriate way, the fly of his jeans suddenly too snug for comfort. What the hell? It’s not like she’s touching him in any sort of sexual way but still, his dick is rock hard at the simple musing. “I promise, if I need to puke, I’ll stick my head out the window.”

He shoots her a dubious glance. He’s more worried about her than his car, and greasy food seems like a terrible idea to him. However, the longer she pouts at him, the weaker his resolve becomes until finally, he sighs. “Fine,” he says, slowing down to make a U-turn at the next light. “But when you spend the rest of the night sick, don’t blame me.” 

She gives him a goofy grin and ruffles his hair, saying something he can’t hear over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Does she really not know the effect she’s having on him? Her fingers are now playing with the curls on the back of his neck--he needs a haircut--and it’s doing nothing to calm his traitorous body. In fact, it’s making things worse. Goosebumps dot his arms, his skin tingling from scalp to groin. He bites his lip and tries to ignore the sensation, concentrating intently on the light flow of traffic. 

“Your hair is so soft,” she murmurs and he presses his lips together to suppress the urge to groan. 

He should tell her to stop, or at least make an excuse of why she has to. He could pretend it tickles or makes him itch both valid reasons, but he can’t deny how much he’s enjoying her attention. She grows bolder, her fingers slipping into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp methodically. Her actions are maddening, his cock twitching with each pass. He shifts in his seat, doing his best to relieve some of the pressure, but it’s no use. 

The car turns into the brand new restaurant’s parking lot and he sends up a small prayer of gratitude when her touch leaves him. She claps her hands much as she did at the nightclub, a reaction he finds endearing. He debates parking to go inside, but if he does she’s sure to notice the massive erection he’s sporting. Preservation of his dignity wins out and he steers the vehicle into the drive-thru line. They come to a stop in front of the glowing menu, and a disembodied voice welcomes them and offers to take their order. 

Before he can ask MC what she wants, she’s undone her seatbelt and crawled onto the center console. Her torso stretches across him as she peers up at the menu, and she slips, almost face planting into the car door. She laughs, catching herself by grabbing his thigh, and he doesn’t fail to notice how dangerously close her fingers are to his crotch. He’s glad the window is down, and that the air conditioning is going at full blast because the heat that suffuses his body makes sweat bead on his upper lip. 

“Yeah, can I get a large fry, a double cheeseburger with no onions, no pickles, extra cheese, add bacon, and a large cherry coke, please?” His eyes widen at the size of her order-he’s never seen her eat that much before. 

“Anything else?” the voice asks in a bored voice. 

“One sec,” she answers and turns her head to look at him. Their gazes lock and for just a second, a flash of something unreadable radiates from her before she tilts her head. “Do you want anything?”

“Ah..no..thanks, I’m good.” 

“Are you sure? I’m not sharing.” 

That makes him grin and he chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

She hums and turns her attention back to the black box. “And a large Dr. Pepper. That’s all.” 

They’re given a total and MC flops back into her seat. “You didn’t have to do that. I have plenty of soda at home.” 

“Fountain drinks are always better,” she states, refastening her seatbelt. “Consider it a thank you for…” She waves her hand around vaguely. 

Approaching the take-out window, he leans to remove his wallet from his back pocket. He hands the teenage cashier his debit card and shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, remember?” 

She doesn’t answer and when he looks in her direction, she’s studying him with a veiled expression. Their gazes lock once more, and he finds himself unable to look away. There’s heat in her eyes, the pupils dilated. The tip of her tongue glides over her bottom lip, the site making his stomach flutter. Leaning over, she rests an elbow on the console and raises the opposite hand to caress his jaw. Her eyes drop to his mouth, and he would bet his life she is about it kiss him. 

Then the window opens and the moment is gone. She returns to her seat, clasping her hands in her lap, eyes shifting away from him to stare out the windshield. He takes his card and returns it to his wallet before accepting the bag of food and two drinks the employee is holding out for him. 

MC wastes no time tearing into the plain brown paper bag, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. He has to smile at her reaction, amused that something so simple seems to evoke such happiness. It’s just a cheeseburger, after all. 

She unwraps her burger and takes a huge bite, her eyes sinking closed in ecstasy. “Oh my god, that’s so good,” she says around her food, all manners are thrown out the window. Not that Seven cares. “Zenny doesn’t like it when I eat junk food,” she continues with a roll of her eyes. 

“Then I guess it’s good he’s not here, yeah?” 

She pauses with a golden french fry halfway to her mouth, considering, then nods and pops the food into her mouth before reaching out to turn on the radio. Finding a song she likes, she returns her attention to her meal and devours it, amazing Seven with how much she can eat in such a short time. Within five minutes nothing remains but a greasy food wrapper and empty french fry container.

“Do you...want to talk about it?” Seven prods fifteen minutes later when she’s failed to say a single word. 

“I really don’t,” MC replies with a twist of her lips. She rests her forehead on the passenger side window and closes her eyes. 

Half an hour later, he pulls into the bunker’s curved driveway and parks near the front door. Her eyes open as soon as the engine dies, and she blinks. “Are we there?” 

“Home sweet home. Come on, you look exhausted. I can give you the grand tour tomorrow.” 

They exit the car and head for the steps leading down to the entrance. A voice asks for a password, and Seven supplies it, taking note of her puzzled expression.

“Spanish,” he explains. “At least it is for today. I change it every couple of days. Can’t be too careful right?”

“Right.” MC agrees. “I always forget how smart you are.”

Seven laughs. “Knowing several languages isn’t being smart, at least not in my case—it’s a product of boredom. Not much to do in college but study or party; I chose to study.” The metal door swings open and he steps aside to allow her to enter first. Following behind he begins to explain a rough layout of his home. “To the right is the kitchen, the left is the hallway to the bathroom and bedroom, straight ahead is the living area.” 

Slowly she walks deeper into the bunker, her eyes darting around to take in every detail. Seven fidgets nervously behind her, unused to having his space invaded by a member of the opposite sex. He tries to see the place through her eyes; the space empty of the usual trappings of a home. No photos displayed on the walls or bookshelves, little more in the house than essential pieces of furniture—and computer parts. Gutted computer towers clutter the floor, keyboards and hard drives littering the tops of the empty pieces of metal. 

“It’s very....minimalistic.” She finally turns with a grin. 

“Yeah...I...uh...spend most of my time there.” He gestures with his chin towards the glass-enclosed workspace, several computer monitors mounted above the two sitting on the cluttered surface of the desk.

Her head tilts, her face is inquisitive. “Don’t you get lonely here?”

Seven shrugs. “I’m used to being alone.” 

Her brows twitch down into a frown and she holds out a hand. “Well, not tonight. Come sit with me.” 

“I should...really get back to work.” Having her there is making him antsy, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. “I just changed the sheets today, so everything’s all set for you.”

“Please, Seven?” 

_ Damn it. _Unable to deny her anything he releases a long breath and nods. “Sure, we can talk for a little while. Do you want something to drink? Water? Soda?”

A small smile tilts her mouth as she shakes her head. “No, thank you.” Sinking down onto the sofa, she begins to remove her sneakers and Seven sits on the far end of the piece of furniture. Finishing her task, MC tucks her legs beneath her and props an elbow on the back of the sofa. 

He looks everywhere but at her, terrified she’ll see right into his soul and know the shameful things he’s thinking. Like how he can smell her perfume, how it does strange things to his senses, how close the bed is and how she’s even closer. She’ll know how the low cut dress she wears reveals just a little too much skin, and how the glimpse of cleavage he can see turns him on more than anything ever has. 

“Seven?”

Lost in his thoughts, he starts at the sound of her voice, his eyes darting to hers. “Yeah?” 

“Do you like me?” 

“That’s a silly question,” he answers. “Of course I do. I came to pick you up, didn’t I? I don’t do that for just anyone, you know.”

MC smiles, her face pinkening. “Do you think I’m pretty?” 

Seven studies her, taking in her slightly smeared makeup, and the damp hair that sticks to her temples. _ The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen _. “Yes.” 

She bites her lip, staring him down until he thinks he’ll combust. Then slowly, she scoots closer to him, holding his gaze until her knees hit his thighs. The hand on the back of the couch touches his bright curls, fingers running through the thick mop. It feels so good, Seven’s eyes flutter closed. Then her lips are on his. 

His eyes spring open to see hers shut, her mouth moving over his in gentle caresses. The tip of her tongue traces the seam of his lips and he gasps, a groan escaping him when the deft muscle takes advantage and slips into his mouth. 

MC climbs into his lap, her mouth never leaving his as the fingers of both hands plunge into his hair, tugging insistently. By instinct, he grasps her hips, his tongue coiling with hers. The quiet whine she utters makes his groin ache. It’s been a long time since he’s been with anyone, and it’s _ her _. He’s hard before he can even comprehend what is happening.

Common sense invades the fog of lust clouding his mind, and he pulls away, hands squeezing her shoulders methodically. She looks down at him, pupils dilated with want. 

“MC…” Reluctant to stop, but reluctant to continue, he does nothing. 

“I want you, Seven.” Her hands travel up his abdomen, and across his chest, coming to rest on his broad shoulders, thumbs tracing his jaw. 

It takes every single scrap of willpower he possesses, but he gently pushes her away, scrambling to his feet before he can change his mind. He adjusts his erection before turning to face her, his face flaming with embarrassment. 

“This is...not a good idea,” he says, his voice thick with arousal. “You’re drunk, and hurting, but I’m not the outlet for that pain.” 

MC shakes her head in denial. “That’s not what this is. I-”

“Would regret this in the morning—both of us would. I could never take advantage of you with your defenses down like this. You would hate me, and I would hate myself.”

“Seven…” 

“Come on, it’s late.” He holds out a hand to help her stand, praying she doesn’t notice its slight tremor. 

Staring down at his hand almost bitterly, it takes her a moment to actually accept it, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection settling deep into her stomach. It only turns more when their fingers finally touch, her mind falling blank as he leads her from the couch to his bedroom.

He moves to turn on his bedroom light, and she squints, preparing herself for the bright light only for nothing to come. Her eyes slowly open to see a dimly lit moon lamp off to the side, casting the room in a soft, misty light which her eyes are more than thankful for. 

Perching on the corner of his bed, she watches him rummage through his drawers and pull out a black tank top and an old pair of sweatpants, both of which he tosses onto the bed beside her. Slamming the drawer, he mutters something she can’t hear under his breath before turning back to her. His cheeks are dusted a light pink from what she assumes is her wanton display not five minutes ago. Suddenly feeling disgusted with herself, she collects the clothing and holds them close to her chest, ignoring the urge to deeply inhale while he is still in the room. 

Clearing his throat, he glances towards her before making his way to the door, fighting the guilt and lust that eats away at his resolve. Gripping the door frame in a white-knuckled grip, he keeps his face forward as he asks her, 

“You uh, you think you’ll be okay?” 

Unable to even look his way, she sighs through her nose and gives a low ‘Yes,’ in reply, letting her eyes fall shut as a sudden wave of nausea hits her. She takes a few more deep breaths before it passes, leaving her feeling empty and cold instead. She doesn’t know which feels worse. 

“MC…”

“Goodnight, Seven.”

There is a pause before he sighs himself and slowly leaves, closing the door enough that the light from the hallway won’t bother her but also doesn’t leave her completely in the dark. 

The moment MC thinks he is far away enough to not hear, she gives a gentle sob into his clothes, numbness settling into her skin like burning ashes. He doesn’t want her, Zen doesn’t want her… what use is she to anyone if she isn’t wanted? 

Rubbing at her eyes hard enough to hurt her skin, she rips the party clothes from her body and throws them into a messy pile to the side, throwing on Seven’s clothes, a look of disdain written clearly across her face. It almost feels wrong putting his clothes on, his rejection still ringing in her ears to the point where she flops on his bed and covers her head with one of his thick pillows.

The moment his scent overwhelms her senses, tears spring to her eyes once more, her fingers gripping at the sheets to pull them to her chin, hiding in a cocoon of Seven. It isn’t long until oblivion takes her, her breathing slowly steadying into a gentle lull as she drifts off to dreamland. 

Moments after MC finally passes out, Seven cautiously peeks into the room, his heart aching at the sight of the love of his life sleeping in his bed. He gives a slow exhale as he steps into the room, making sure his footfall is light, just in case she’s a lighter sleeper as he is. When he makes it to the bed and she still hasn’t stirred, he sighs in relief and carefully lowers himself to the floor so they are nearly facing. 

Eyes caressing her face as if committing it to memory, he can’t stop himself from brushing back the stray strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes. His cheeks burn like the sun, his heart beating like war drums. Anger and depression settle into him as he takes his hand away, clenching it in his lap with self-hatred. 

He was so close. 

He literally had her in his lap… and he turned her away. After everything she said, after finally receiving the attention he so craved, the only thing that felt right in that moment was turning her down. He felt confused at his sudden morality, unsure why he feels nervous and almost disgusted with himself for even wanting her in that way. 

Groaning to himself, he lets his forehead fall to the bed, a deep frown etched into his features as the anger towards himself rises in his chest, the strong emotion suffocating him. Grasping at his ever-present cross necklace, he releases a soft hiss and scrunches his eyes shut so hard he probably appears as if in pain. He feels stupid, obsessed, and absolutely furious he didn’t comfort her properly, but most of all, he feels heartbroken.

For the first time in his life, he had the world in his hands, and instead of cherishing and protecting the purity inside his palms, he destroyed it with a few simple words and let it burn under his fingertips. 

He had been so close. 

Lifting his head to stare at his world, he freezes in surprise as dull eyes stare back, glazed and tired, but there all the same. 

“Why doesn’t he want me?”

His heart shatters at those five murmured words dripping with despair. Though he can’t move, his entire being is burning under her glossy stare until her eyes close once more. He blinks a few times before clutching at his chest, his heart beating so hard he’s sure MC can hear it. It’s then his eyes well with tears, his body unconsciously tearing itself away from her bedside and out the door. 

The moment he makes it back into his workspace, he let out a sob, one hand covering his face in near shame as his other grips the top of his chair. He can’t hold himself up any longer, his legs giving out to dump him onto the cold concrete floor, the sound-proofed walls dulling the sound of his weeping. It feels like hours before he’s able to shut off enough of his emotions to rise from the ground, only to collapse into the chair. Immediately he turns on the camera in his room to keep an eye on MC while he works. 

At least here, even if he can’t touch her in life, he can touch her on a screen. He traces the shape of her curves accentuated by the simple sheet covering her lithe frame. His fingers move slowly, taking his time as if making love to her skin projected on the screen. In here, he doesn’t feel the shame that engulfs his entire being as his eyes roamed, his breathing hitching as heat settles into his gut, his pants tighter than they ever were in the car as he drove her here. 

He’d been so damn close. 

With a groan of frustration, he throws himself back into the chair, panicking a bit when it feels as if it will fall over under his weight. But it doesn’t and he closes his eyes and palms the large bulge in his jeans. Would it be wrong to do that here? Now? With MC resting peacefully only a few doors away. He bites his lip as he considers. 

The room _ is _soundproof, so if he shut the sliding glass door, there’s no way she’d be able to hear him. Besides, he can watch on the cameras to be sure he’s not caught. But the whole idea seems...dirty, even if his hand is now pressing his erection down hard against his body. He won’t be getting any work done if he stays in this condition but still, he can’t bring himself to undo his fly to release the immense pressure. 

Movement on the monitor catches his eye and he watches as MC kicks the thin sheets from her body, her frame twisting and turning to find a comfortable position. Her lips are moving and Seven quickly leans forward to presses a key to enable the microphone. 

“_ God _ ,” she mutters, swiping at the damp tendrils of hair that stick to her forehead and temple. “Why is it so fucking _ hot _? Seven is richer than god, there’s no excuse for not having a properly working air conditioner. 

Seven laughs in surprise as he shakes his head. The bunker, in fact, is quite cold. It always is so his equipment doesn’t overheat. His smile fades slowly, however, when he notices the tank top he’s loaned her has twisted to the side and one glorious breast is completely exposed. His mouth is suddenly dry and he swallows hard, trying to tear his gaze away from the pert pink nipple staring back at him. 

Oblivious of her nudity, MC giggles and buries her face into his pillow to inhale deeply. “Seven, you’re such a liar. These sheets haven’t been changed in weeks.” She takes another deep breath and groans softly. “Not that I mind. It smells like you-honeysuckle with a hint of vanilla. I even like I can smell your sweat. I wonder...how many women have you had here? In this bed?” 

Her voice begins to crack at her last few words, and Seven’s brows furrow in both confusion and concern. He’s never brought a woman back to the bunker, it’s a sacred place, but why would it upset her if he did? His thoughts are pulled away from that train of thought immediately when he notices her hand slip under the hem of her tank top. 

His eyes are playing tricks on him, they have to be. There’s no way the woman he’s been fantasizing about for years is touching herself _ in his bed _. A bed he forgot to change the sheets on and didn’t think she’d notice his white lie. He leans in closer to the screen, his eyes wide and unblinking. 

Sure enough her hand is cupping her breast, and she releases a slight moan as her thumb grazes its tip. Seven hadn’t thought he could get any harder, but he was poorly mistaken. His erection begs to be released from its confines but Seven is rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch and listen as the woman on the screen slips her free hand down the sweatpants he loaned her. 

Her knees fall open, back arching, a breathless sigh filling the room-she’d found her sweet spot. “Why won’t you touch me this way?” She pouts into the void, her hips beginning to move in time with the fingers between her legs. “I want you so much, but you never even look my way.”

Words fail her as she draws closer to release, her breath coming fast and heavy, allowing only fragments of sentences to escape. 

“...you...want....love...oh _ god _…”

Seven can’t make out everything she’s saying, the mics he installed in his room are garbage, bargain bin ones. He’d never seen the point of having the best audio in that particular room--until now. But there is one thing MC gasps he hears loud and clear and it freezes him in place. 

“...coming...Seven, I’m going to come. I want to come for you. Please don’t make me wait any longer. Fuck me hard..._ harder.” _ A loud whine escapes her throat, her legs spreading as far as they can. “I’m coming, I’m coming, _ fuck, _I’m….” Her body tenses then begins to quiver as her orgasm hits her. 

She isn’t quite about it either. Her cries of release are joyous and unapologetic, her body flushed, chest heaving with exertion. She throws her head back and laughs, bringing both hands up to push away the damp hair stuck to her face. 

Seven’s face is flushed as MC’s body, and he buries his head in his hands. He didn’t hear what he thought he heard. That’s just ludicrous. MC has Zen, she doesn’t need Seven. She’s just drunk and hurting from their apparent breakup. Even so, Seven wishes he hadn’t turned on that fucking camera. Now his desire for her will only grow. He knows what she sounds like in bed now. Has an idea how she likes to be fucked and what gets her off the quickest. _ Fuck me _.

So lost in his thoughts, it takes him several minutes to realize his clothes are now damp and sticky with cum. He’d orgasmed when she did but had been so enthralled, he didn’t even realize it. 


End file.
